The Best Day Of My Life
by Telaka
Summary: Simply as the title suggests. Ororo recalls on the day of her fifth birthday.


_**The Best Day Of My Life**_

_**((Note that Ororo Munroe of the X-Men does not belong to me, all rights go to Marvel Comics.))**_

I know of few people who would be able to recall every minute of their fifth birthday through memory alone. Maybe what they had on their birthday cake or their favourite gift. Perhaps even what they did at their party or even what they wore.

Me, I remember every second of my own, for it was the one happiest day of my life.

My mother was the first thing I saw that day with beautiful blue eyes to match my own smiling down upon me as I awoke. I remember the first thing she said to me.

"My dear precious Ororo, time to get up. Your dad is down stairs waiting for you to feed you a feast of a breakfast on your special day."

I smiled back widely, my hands reaching up to wrap around her neck as she lifted me high and then into her loving grip.

We bounced down the stairs together, my small chubby fingers playing through my mother's thick long black hair, hair a complete contrast from my own thin short white bundle atop my smiling face. She told me many times of how the white hair was a sign of a gift I had inside me that would blossom when I grew and she told me this on that morning as we followed the inviting scent of breakfast and the soft humming from my father as he cooked.

When we made it to the kitchen I immediately jumped from my mother's arms to run across the smooth tiled floor where at the other side my dad was ready to grab me and spin me around making me laugh giddily as he did.

He said my laugh was infectious, that whenever I was happy he was happy and today was no exception.

He stopped spinning and held me close as his gentle hazel brown eyes rested on my own clear blue ones.

"Ah 'Ro, you're getting far too heavy for your ol' dad to be hauling you round like that."

I giggled at his silly comment and he tickled my nose with his own before he sat me down at our small kitchen table on top of a wicker chair.

My mum crossed the floor after me, her long delicate white dress flowing smoothly, just like her tall elegant body as she went. My dad took her in his arms and kissed her affectionately.

I covered my eyes, making yucky noises at the scene as the two laughed at my actions. They pulled away and my mum came to sit at my side pulling my hands away from my screwed up eyes.

"Ororo, little one, after breakfast I have something special to show you. Now that you are five you are old enough, I feel, to inherit what my mother gave me when I was five and her mother before that."

My eyes lit up with excitement just as my dad came over with plates full of food.

"But first we eat!"

And then my dad served us the biggest breakfast that I had ever laid my eyes upon. Pancakes and waffles, fresh fruit and milk, toast and jam, nuts and glazed candies, anything he could invent from what we had in our cupboards.

I ate until I could no more then ate again minutes after. Half way through I declared that my dad was not only the best baseball player and writer in the world but also the best cook and the best dad ever.

He said I could bring a tear to the darkest of souls and I guest that was a compliment.

After we were all done with the morning feast my mother carried me into our small cosy living room.

Next to my bedroom this was my favourite room in our home in Egypt and my favourite spot anywhere was in my mother's old rocking chair that sat in a corner of the room next to the fireplace.

She put me down and told me to go look and see what I could find there. I trotted over to discover a small black box tied neatly in a gold bow with my name scrawled on a label attached to it. I turned to face my mum and she nodded for me to open it.

Brushing aside loose white hair I set to work untying the bow and peeling back the lid of the box to reveal the present waiting for me.

Inside, when I did open it, was a perfectly shaped oval ruby encased in a rich gold backing, which gleamed as I looked down upon it. I had never seen such a stone like it before and for a few minutes I simply marvelled at its beauty. My mother's soft voice brought me back from it gently.

"Bring it here Ororo, I'll tell you all about it."

Carefully I lifted the stone from its cotton bed and held it tight in both hands as I went back over to my parents, sitting between them on the sofa.

My mother lent over the ruby with me, her own long thin fingers traced over its smooth flawless surface.

"Well as I have already said this ruby belonged to me and your grandmothers before your time and has been in the family for as long as anyone can remember."

I looked up at my mother as she spoke, taking in every word carefully, listening closely.

"Now that you have reached five I am passing it onto you and hope one day that you can pass it onto your own daughter and then her daughter, although it will be many, many years before that happens."

She smiled and I with her. She lent down and kissed the top of my head lovingly, stroking the hair there.

"Happy birthday Ororo."

I hugged her in turn, still holding firmly the ruby as I did.

Then my father reached over and seized me around the stomach, tickling me until I cried with laughter.

"My turn now squirt. Here."

My father reached down behind the sofa and pulled out another box, tied in the same gold ribbon, and placed it on my lap. My mother took the ruby as I set about unwrapping the bow, eager to reveal my gift.

I tilted the lid up and inside laid a single brown leather baseball glove with my name stitched in black along the thumb.

I took it out excitedly and instantly put it on to check its fit.

My dad laughed good naturally as he watched my overjoyed face study the glove carefully, then as my arms wrapped round to hug it affectionately.

"Go get dressed and we'll toss some pitches out back eh, how 'bout that?"

In seconds I was charging up the stairs, my mother following behind to help me dress for the day.

My mother loved dressing me. A lot of what I wore was clothes she had made herself years ago when she had only dreamed of having a daughter like me.

I sat on my bed, legs swinging from the side as she stood in my tall wardrobe flicking past railings of dresses and outfits. Finally with a satisfied smile she picked out one knee length lilac dress stitched with flowers along the bottom. She held it up for me to see and I nodded in agreement.

After the dress was on she sat me on her lap and went through my hair with a fine comb, pulling back a small section at the top with a matching lilac bow. When she was done she set me on the ground to get a good look at me, beaming with pride.

"Oh my dear Ororo, you certainly live up to your name."

She gave me another tight hug and then took my hand as we went back down the stairs and out to our grassy backyard.

My dad was waiting for me, holding my glove in one hand and an old baseball in the other.

It was my favourite game, catching and throwing with my dad. His love of baseball had been passed down to me just as my mother's ruby had and he often boasted about how I could become a champion player one day.

My mother sat on the grass, her bare feet poking out from under her dress as she watched us play happily.

My father crouched to his knees, coming down to my height as he carefully threw the ball. More often than not I missed but I was determined to keep playing until I had caught the ball all of five times.

My fifth catch came and I jumped up and down triumphantly, my parents cheering with me.

"That glove working wonders for your 'Ro."

I liked it when my dad called me 'Ro, it was my favourite nickname.

We spent hours in the back playing in the hot sun of Africa. My father and I chased each other all over the lawn tagging each other back and forth.

As I chased my dad back to my mum she grabbed me and placed me back on her lap.

"Lunch time I believe. And I think that means time for cake."

For the third time that day my eyes lit up in wonder and I led the way to the kitchen promptly.

I sat myself in the same chair as at breakfast and watched as my father pulled out a round chocolate cake from on top of a high cupboard and place it in front of me. My mum lit the five candles there and they sang to me an old Swahili birthday song whilst I sat eagerly awaiting cake. At the end I blew out all but one of the candles. My dad blew out the last for me and then ruffled my hair and he began cutting the cake. My mum patted the hair back down and mock chided my dad.

"David, stop messing up your daughters birthday hair."

He donned a sheepish grin. "Sorry Mrs N'Dare."

I giggled at their acting then stared wide eyed as a slice of thick chocolate cake was laid out in front of me and a fork put in my hand.

"Enjoy."

And I did. My father layered the slice with cream and cherries for me and I even got a second slice after my first. I was careful not to get any on my dress and amazingly I never.

My parents busied themselves around the kitchen, occasionally stopping to kiss lightly with me quickly covering my eyes as they did.

When the last of my slice was gone and I had licked the last of the cream off my fingers I slid off my chair and quickly made my way to the living room. My parents followed in curiosity. As soon as they saw where I was heading though they knew what I wanted without me even having to ask.

I stood in front of a large glass cabinet and watched as my dad reached up to the top and pulled forth an old yellowed cardboard box and handed it to my mum.

I smiled happily then ran over to the sofa where I sat between my mother and father. My mum open the tattered lid to the antique box.

"You want to see the family again?"

I nodded simply and she laughed lightly.

"Well I suppose it is your birthday, if it's what you want."

She took out a handful of ancient drawings and sketches of many different faces and laid them across her legs.

I felt as my dad stroked down my hair softly whilst he lent over with me to look on with my mum.

She pulled out one portrait from the pack and held it between her delicate fingers to show me. The picture portrayed a beautiful young woman with a smooth dark oval face outlined by long thick white hair and defined by a pair of brilliant blue eyes. Around her neck on a choker she wore a ruby.

"This is your grandmother, my mother. Look, here's the ruby that I gave you. She wore it everywhere she went, hardly ever took it off until I turned five and she gave it to me."

I smoothed my fingers down the face of the picture, touching on the ruby choker.

My father reached over and pulled out one of what was only a few photographs from the pile. He smiled fondly down at it.

"Here's me with my pa. He would have loved you so much Ororo if he had lived to see you come into the world. Gentlest man I ever knew, he loved every living thing on the planet. Shame he had to go."

I looked up at both my parents and watched as they exchanged bittersweet smiles. My mum wrapped her arms around me.

"But we'll never leave you little one, not till we're old and grey and have no teeth left."

I giggled again, imagining my parents with no teeth.

As I sat between them I felt warm and safe, a feeling gladly common to me in my early years. With my parents I never felt anything less but warmth and love.

We went through the pile together. I occasionally pointed out faces I either did not recognise or did not remember and my parents would fondly recollect on those faces and the memories that went with them.

I gladly spent hours there with them, going through my heritage.

Then, in the middle of it all I heard a noise above me that I had never heard before, a boisterous loud crack in the sky that was soon followed by a heavy battering at the window. I yelped and buried my face in my dad's arms.

His gentle laugh and reassuring pat on the back brought me back out from my hiding place.

"It's only a storm Ororo."

I looked at him questionably for being in Cairo meant weather such as a storm was rarely seen.

My mother walked over to the window and beckoned for me to follow.

Another crack hit my ears and I again dove into my father's arms. He lifted me up securely in his gentle grip and took me over to the window beside my mum.

There I saw rain like no other flooding the dusty streets in seconds. Bright lights filled the skies and cracks dominated soon after. Winds battered the trees and sung melodically through the window.

It was the song of the wind that calmed and comforted me. My mother stroked my face.

"See nothing to be afraid of, the goddess is watching over us all. A storm in Cairo, I would call that a blessing."

Once I got over the initial fright the storm had given me I found myself watching it with fascination.

My little hand pressed up against the cold pane of glass in front of me and my dad lent closer so I could lean my head up against the window.

Then as quickly as it had come it was gone and what was left in its wake was revealed to me.

Puddles. Puddles as deep as to my ankles lay rippling in the gently blowing breeze, littered with fallen leaves and twigs. They begged me to come play in them.

I jumped up and down in my dad's arms excitedly and he looked to my mum who nodded with a smile.

We opened the front door and my dad let me down, allowing me to run about in the ankle deep water bare footed.

Being only five I found it extremely easy to get myself soaked from head to toe in no more than ten minutes. As I ran I accidentally tripped and found myself on my stomach, now drenched through and through.

I laughed at myself, splashing about as I did before my dad came over and lifted me up, placing me on his shoulders.

"I think you've got yourself wet enough for one day 'Ro. Come on it before your mother keels over with worry of you getting a cold."

He carried me back to the house where my mother was waiting in the living room holding a large fluffy white towel over her arms.

My dad put me down, taking off my wringing dress before I ran up to my mum. She quickly wrapped me up in the towel and them moved to sit on her old rocking chair with me curled up in her lap, my head resting on her chest.

"Could you light the fire David?"

He did so willingly and within minutes flames of welcoming warmth roared up in front of us, dancing across my bright blue eyes.

I snuggled deeper into the towel and my mum wrapped her arms around me tighter, holding me securely. My dad stood beside us, stroking first my mother's lush black hair lovingly then my own soft thin white hair.

Slowly I closed my eyes over, finding the wave of warmth and love easing me into a peaceful slumber in my mother's arms.

She rocked gently back and forth, her voice a low mumble to me as she spoke to my dad and slowly soothingly led me to sleep.

Never in all my years after the deaths of these two people, who were the most precious people to me, did I ever feel such warmth and comfort, such safety and love surround me again.

That day I didn't have an overly fancy party with masses of people surrounding me, bombarding me with sweets and gifts. I had my mum and my dad both at my side there for me to hold me and love me till the end of their days. And they did.

**_End_ **


End file.
